A Christmas Family Miracle. Rebecca Winters

both smiled. “You’ve grown a foot since the last time I saw you.” He spoke in French.

      His nephew giggled. “I’ve had a birthday, too,” he responded in the same language. “The model car you sent me is my favorite toy.”

      “I’m glad you like it.”

      “Next year I’ll be seven.”

      Puzzled by the comment Raoul said, “How come you’re in such a hurry to get older?”

      “‘Cause then Mommy will take me back to see you.”

      Stunned by the revealing comment, he had to take a fortifying breath. “Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” Raoul couldn’t imagine loving his own child more than he loved Philippe.

      The boy nodded. “I’ve missed you, too. Every time we talked on the phone, you promised you’d come and see me. How come it took you so long?”

      He gripped the steering wheel tighter. There were several reasons. He hadn’t liked the fact that he’d developed an unwanted attraction to his sister-in-law. It was better they were apart. For a long time he’d been at war with himself to keep things that way. But Philippe didn’t know that, and there was only one safe answer to give him.

      “Business has kept me too busy. Your grandfather has been forced to slow down, so I’ve been doing some of his work along with my own.”

      “Now that you’re here you can stay at my nana’s with me in the other bed. Sometimes Mommy sleeps in there with me when I cry.”

      Raoul sucked in his breath. “Do you cry a lot?”

      “Yes. Do you?”

      “Sometimes. I miss your father, too.”

      “I wish he didn’t have to die. Then we wouldn’t have to live here.”

      The tremor in his nephew’s voice caused Raoul’s throat to swell. “I’ve wished that a thousand times, Philippe.” A thousand times. Crystal’s decision to move back to Colorado had angered him. But as the months had worn on and he’d recovered from his initial reaction, he’d realized it was because he’d missed her.

      They’d shared a hell of a lot over the years. When she’d left Chamonix for good, he was flung into another void that had nothing to do with the loss of his brother. Insane as it was, he found his thoughts dwelling on her all the time, filling him with guilt that it was she rather than Eric he was missing.

      “I’m mad at Mommy.”

       Join the club, Philippe.

      But Raoul steeled himself not to react. There’d been a major change in Crystal even before Eric’s death. Emotionally he’d felt her push herself away from the family, from him. For his own sense of self-preservation he’d honored the unspoken message to stay away until now. On the flight over, part of him was still fighting the imminent reunion while the other part of him couldn’t wait for it.

      He’d stepped off the plane totally conflicted, but seeing her this afternoon brought a whole new set of feelings into the mix.

      She no longer had that vivacious girl-next-door look that had been so appealing, she’d made the cover of every sporting magazine and had snared his brother. Their romance had captured the headlines for a long time. For him to have died so young, and leaving a wife and child behind, had taken its toll on everyone.

      Remembering Philippe he said, “Why are you upset with your mother?”

      “She made us come here. I want to go home.”

      There was an unmistakable forlornness in his tone. “Doesn’t Breckenridge feel like home now?”

      “No,” came the quiet answer. “My house is in Chamonix.”

      So it was … For a six-year-old, Philippe had an intelligence and maturity beyond his years.

      “Could I go home with you, Uncle Raoul?”

      With that question, Raoul’s thoughts reeled. Since there were things he couldn’t discuss with his nephew until after he’d talked with Crystal, he pretended to misunderstand. “I’ve got a room at the Hotel Des Alpes down the road from your grandpa’s store. If your mother says it’s all right, you can sleep with me tonight.”

      “Goody! I always wanted to stay there. It has real sleigh bells inside. Sometimes Mommy lets me go inside to shake them.”

      He smiled because everything about Philippe was so endearing. “You like sleigh bells?”

      “Yup. They’re like the ones in Grandpa’s storeroom. Remember when you took me and Albert for a sleigh ride?”

      It surprised him Philippe remembered so much. Twelve months had passed since they’d left France, yet that memory had stood out. Was Crystal aware of her son’s deepest feelings? Or was she still in too much pain over losing Eric to feel anything these days?

      Raoul had gone through the grieving period after Suzanne was killed, but he’d got past it. If they’d had a child together already, it might have taken longer if you saw the face of the person you’d loved every time you looked at your own child. But that hadn’t been the case.

      “Tell me about school. What’s your teacher’s name?”

      “Ms. Crabtree.”

      “Do you like your teacher?”

      “She’s all right, but she can’t speak French. Nobody speaks French here.”

      He spoke in a voice that said he was bored with the idiocy of people, reminding Raoul of Eric when his brother brushed aside something he found irritating during a conversation. Raoul didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Being with Philippe made the memories fly fast and furiously.

      “Your mommy speaks French.” When there was no comment he said, “Have you got a best friend yet?”

      “Nope. Albert’s my best friend.” Albert was Philippe’s seven-year-old cousin.

      “How come you haven’t made one here?”

      “I just haven’t.” A sigh escaped.

      That was no answer. There was a lot wrong with Philippe. “You have me.”

      “But you live in Chamonix and Mommy won’t take me home.” His nephew’s tears weren’t far away.

      “Have you asked her?”

      “Yes. But she always cries when I do. My nana told me Mommy’s going to take me back when I’m older, but I want to go now. I wish I could live with you.”

      Raoul’s eyes smarted. When he’d driven up here from Denver, he’d imagined he’d find an Americanized boy who’d forgotten his French and Raoul. He had to clear his throat. “Then your mother would feel bad.”

      “I don’t care.”

      “That’s not true,” he said gently.

      “She’s mean.”

      “I don’t believe it.”

      “But she is. When I ask her if I can call you up, she says we have to wait till you call first because you’re too busy.”

      Raoul bit down hard. “I’ll have a talk with her about that.” It was his fault. By trying to distance himself from Crystal, he’d gone too far. But that was because of his unbrotherly feelings for her that he’d been trying to fight—without success.

      “She’ll get mad I told you.”

      “Does she really get mad?”

      After a pause Philippe said, “No, but she doesn’t smile.”

      Once long ago Crystal’s beautiful smile had been her trademark. “We like our mothers to smile, don’t we?” No matter how much pain everyone is in.

      Through